Depression is waking up in the morning dreading the thought of getting out of bed, wishing you wouldn’t have been able to wake up when really you should be grateful God gave you another day.
Depression is having to think of your past as someone else’s because you don’t want to accept that it was yours.
Depression is wasting the breath that you barely have to say I’m fine, when in all reality I’m hurt more than words can describe.
Depression is hearing your family laughing, making you feel like you may not even be related to them because you never laugh.
Depression is learning at a young age to love family but family isn’t always love.
Depression is wanting to take the little happiness you have out of your heart, rip it up, and throw it into the sea of your tears because you’re barely holding on.
Depression is wanting to take your fake smiles, wrap them up like a present, and give them to someone more deserving.
Depression is writting the word alone and seeing the word home.
Depression is loving the broken things and hoping they piece back together because it’s the only hope you have.
Depression is people telling you to stop crying because “you have no reason to” as if sadness is a privilege.
Depression is writting sad stories with twisted endings because it’s all you’ve ever experienced.
Depression is a mask sitting on a hidden figures face.
Depression is sadness.
Depression is fear.
Depression is scary.
Depression is your best friend.
Depression is your worst nightmare.